Can Pastilla: The Roman Wreck and the Question of Responsibility and Funding

A discovery, many questions

When you breathe the sea air at the Playa de Palma, the salty breeze mixes with the sound of scooters on the promenade and distant laughter from beach bars. Under this familiar surface lies a late Roman shipwreck — visible to only a few divers, but crucial for many. What lies on the seabed is not the only issue: the question of responsibility. Who owns the research, who pays for salvage and conservation, and above all: how can Mallorca prevent valuable knowledge from disappearing in crates to the mainland?

The key question: jurisdiction, costs, capacities

The team of specialists has professionally recommended a staged lifting: the keel is missing, the hull is unstable — a large-scale recovery would cause more harm than good. Names of universities and institutes circulate, ARQUA is involved, the expertise is there. But on the administrative side of the project there is a gap: who bears the financial burdens? Does the island government take primary responsibility, will the state step in, will EU funding programmes cover a large part? And is the island's internal infrastructure at all prepared to properly conserve wet wood, corroding metals and salt-saturated ceramics?

What is often overlooked

Public debate often talks of spectacular liftings and future museum displays. That misses the point. Three practical problems are rarely discussed with the necessary clarity: 1) on-site conservation capacity, 2) long-term costs for storage and care and 3) protection of the find area during the works. Mallorca has museums and laboratories — but are they prepared for moist, fragile finds that need months or years of special treatment? Or will parts of the wreck be transported to the mainland after recovery, raising questions about transparency and the distribution of research results?

Another point that is easily overlooked is the loss of context through a staged recovery. Archaeology depends on context: how pottery relates to wooden parts, how nails and beams interact. If items are lifted too separately, the story of the ship and its cargo can become irretrievably fragmented — unless parallel documentation and long-term conservation interlock perfectly.

An opportunity for Mallorca — if handled wisely

Of course the find is a stroke of luck: it offers the chance to learn more about late Roman trade routes and daily life on Mallorca's coast. Crucial is how the island manages this treasure: purely as a scientific resource or as public heritage that is made visible and useful to the population. With smart decisions Mallorca could create conservation jobs, generate tourist added value and build research competence — instead of briefly making headlines and then transporting the material away for processing.

Concrete, pragmatic steps

1. Transparent financial planning: A phased budget plan that clearly names responsibilities (island government, state, universities, possible funding programmes). Public access to costs and funding sources builds trust and prevents speculation.

2. Modular conservation units on Mallorca: Quickly deployable, climate-controlled labs near the port to carry out initial drying and desalination work on the island. This keeps knowledge and value creation on site.

3. Digital preservation first: Complete photogrammetry and 3D scans, open data for scientific use and accompanying visualisations for schools and the public. That way the find remains usable even if not every piece is physically present.

4. Protected zone and monitoring: A temporary protection zone around the wreck, monitoring by local authorities and certified divers; clear rules on dive permits to prevent looting and media stunts.

5. Participation and education: Information events, temporary exhibitions on the promenade, cooperation with local diving clubs and craft businesses — the wreck as a community project rather than a private research object.

Conclusion and outlook

The planned timeline with continuous documentation and initial recoveries by 2026 is technically realistic. But that is only the beginning. The real challenge lies afterwards on land: conserve, store, research, exhibit — that requires long-term planning and funding. Local politics have signalled willingness, but what is missing is a binding roadmap with transparent costs and clear responsibilities.

Strolling along the promenade you still smell sunscreen, the clinking of dishes at the beach bars remains — and under the waves lies a fragment of the past that demands decisive action. Mallorca stands at a crossroads: short-lived marketing or sustainable protection and participation? The coming months will show whether the archaeological puzzle becomes a local asset of knowledge and competence — or whether it disappears into boxes and drawers.

This project could become a model: archaeological care combined with local responsibility. If the right questions are asked now, more can be achieved than just a spectacular photo of a crane on the beach.